


To Lay Your Armour Down

by tookumade



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Drunkenness, Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2018-04-30 00:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5144207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tookumade/pseuds/tookumade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of short fics based off the Things You Said writing prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sanctuary (Things You Said When You Were Drunk)

**Author's Note:**

> Just as it says in the summary, here will be a collection of Matsukawa/Hanamaki fics I've had lying around that I feel are too short for AO3 one-shots, and too long for tumblr. Some of them will tie in with the other fics I've already got up, while others are their own stories. Tags will be updated as the chapters as uploaded.  
> I hope you will enjoy them!

It was late at night, and Hanamaki was getting worried. Better worried than angry, maybe, though this wasn’t much fun either. He ran his hands over his face.  
  
He and Matsukawa had had a fight over something small and stupid, which had worked itself up into a disproportionately loud shouting match, and ended with Matsukawa storming out of their apartment. That had been a surprise—in the rare times that they had fought in the past, Hanamaki was usually the one who stormed off, and/or Matsukawa would shut himself up in his room until things calmed down. They would apologise properly the next morning and make it up to each other, and then things would be back to normal before long, and they would be okay. It had always been like this.  
  
Matsukawa had left the apartment an hour and a half ago, and Hanamaki hadn’t heard from him since. He was getting more and more tempted to call him to ask where the hell he’d run off to, though his pride was stopping him and making him more stubborn than he’d like to admit.  
  
Still, there was something to be said about shelving one’s pride, he supposed. They never got angry enough that they didn’t care what happened to the other, never got angry enough that they didn’t worry. And anyway, one and a half hours was plenty of time for them both to stew over things and think about how stupid and petty their argument had been.  
  
Just as he put his hands on his hips and wondered where he had left his phone, he heard it ring from somewhere behind a couch cushion. Scrambling for it, he saw that it was Matsukawa calling. Hanamaki exhaled in relief, before taking a deep breath and answering it with a quiet, “Hey.”  
  
“Hey,” Matsukawa mumbled in reply, and Hanamaki frowned a little in surprise at his slurred voice. “Can y’ come get me? Drank too much.”  
  
Hanamaki hurried to his room to grab his jacket. “Where are you right now?”  
  
“Um… post… office?”  
  
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” said Hanamaki, seizing his keys from the kitchen and pulling his shoes on, “so don’t go anywhere.”  
  
“Mrrgh.”  
  
Hanamaki sprinted out of the apartment block and reached the post office in seven minutes, a little out of breath, to find Matsukawa hunched over on the bench outside with his head in his hands. He reached him and touched his arm gently and said, “Issei, are you okay?”  
  
Matsukawa raised his head and squinted at him, and almost automatically, Hanamaki put an arm around him and Matsukawa leaned into him and rested his head against his shoulder. “Too many shots,” he mumbled. “Can’t walk straight. Vodka—very bad idea.”  
  
“Amazing,” Hanamaki muttered. “Come on, let’s go home.”  
  
Hoisting his arm around his shoulders, Hanamaki began standing up with difficulty, pulling Matsukawa’s weight up with him.  
  
“Oi, Issei, get up– _not like that!_ ”  
  
Matsukawa had pushed himself up suddenly, nearly knocking Hanamaki off-balance and threatening to send them both tipping over the bench.  
  
“Ooh… very strong. Iwaizumi would be proud.”  
  
“Oh my god,” said Hanamaki, and they began to head home.  
  
It wasn’t so terrible, once Matsukawa got into the sequence of putting one foot in front of the other. He was right though; he _really_ couldn’t walk straight. Hanamaki had to hold onto him tightly so he wouldn’t zigzag all over the footpath.  
  
“I still can’t believe you went and got yourself hopelessly drunk,” said Hanamaki as they walked. “You, of all people! Even I’ve only done that once.”  
  
“Hrgrggh.”  
  
“Well, I guess it _was_ a pretty bad argument…”  
  
Matsukawa made a noise that was half sigh and half pitiful whine and leaned his head against Hanamaki’s. Hanamaki’s hand tightened around his waist a little. Neither said another word until they reached their apartment block.  
  
The climb up the stairs would be his exercise for the week, Hanamaki thought, gasping for breath as he fumbled for his keys to unlock the door, before wheezing to Matsukawa, “One day… we’ll be able to afford an apartment in a building with elevators.”  
  
“Mmgh,” was Matsukawa’s reply, which Hanamaki took as an agreement.  
  
They managed to somehow kick off their shoes without having to crouch down or let go of each other (“Do you remember that three-legged race in high school when I tripped and skinned my knee? That was so much easier than this.”), before they stumbled around the apartment. Now that they were both safely home, Matsukawa seemed much less concerned about staying upright, and was perfectly content to let Hanamaki literally drag him back to his bedroom, swearing as he struggled to turn on the light with his deadweight, then swearing some more as he clumsily pulled back the bed covers. Finally, somewhat unceremoniously, Hanamaki dropped Matsukawa onto the bed with a grunt.  
  
“Ah, shit, I forgot you had to– come on, at least change out of your clothes first,” said Hanamaki. Matsukawa just mumbled softly and dug his head into his pillow a little more. That was it; he wasn’t going to move until the morning. Hanamaki sighed and pulled his covers over him, then turned to leave the room, but–  
  
“Takahiro.”  
  
He stopped and looked at him. Matsukawa’s eyes were open again, though barely, and he had one arm raised, reaching in Hanamaki’s direction and gesturing for him to come over. Hanamaki sighed and shuffled over to the bed again.  
  
“We’re supposed to be mad at each other,” he said, crawling under the cover and shifting until he was lying comfortably beside him.  
  
“Tomorrow,” said Matsukawa sleepily, moving closer to Hanamaki until his face was pressed up against his neck and practically nuzzling him. He still smelled faintly of alcohol and stale second-hand cigarette smoke, but Hanamaki was really too tired to complain. Too relieved that Matsukawa was home, as well, but he didn’t have to admit that out loud until the morning. And anyway, Matsukawa probably knew, drunk or not.  
  
They laid there in a warm and comfortable tangle of limbs. Hanamaki put his arm around him and began rubbing his back gently, the way he knew Matsukawa liked.  
  
“Thanks for pickin’ me up,” Matsukawa mumbled almost inaudibly. Hanamaki’s hand paused for a moment at Matsukawa’s back, before he bent his head and pressed a kiss to his temple.  
  
“It’s no problem.” He paused, then asked hesitantly, “Did you think I wouldn’t?”  
  
“Nah,” said Matsukawa. “Knew you would. S’why I called ya.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Matsukawa shifted slightly. “Why, did y’ think about not goin’?” he asked.  
  
“No,” said Hanamaki truthfully. “Not for a moment. I mean, you would go pick me up if I got drunk after we–”  
  
“Nrhh, too many words,” Matsukawa mumbled in protest, burying his face against Hanamaki’s neck a little more. “Sleep.” Hanamaki laughed softly.  
  
“Okay,” he said, resuming rubbing his back again. “We'll fix things in the morning."  
  
“Mm."  
  
“Goodnight.”  
  
“Goodnight.”


	2. Liars (Things You Said Through Your Teeth)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter serves as a prequel to one of my earlier fics, [Fools Like Us](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2858150).

There was news, Hanamaki could tell. He and Matsukawa were seated at their tiny dining table in their apartment after Matsukawa had come home from work—unusually enough, a little later than Hanamaki did. Hanamaki had made them both glasses of iced tea, which they had drunk in silence. It was his turn to make dinner that night, and he would get right to it soon, but Matsukawa…  
  
“I got an offer at work today,” said Matsukawa quietly as he pushed his glass away, not looking at him.  
  
Hanamaki’s eyes widened, and a grin spread across his face. “That’s great!” he said. “What kind of offer?”  
  
“A promotion, I guess? My boss said I’d be managing a team of about eight.”  
  
“ _Nice!_ And about time too! You’ve been working your ass off since the start, it took them long enough to finally recognise…” Hanamaki trailed off when he realised the expression on Matsukawa’s face was not that of celebration. “What’s wrong?”  
  
Matsukawa twisted his hands together. “The job offer is in Melbourne,” he said. “Australia. My contract would be for eight months, starting June.”  
  
Hanamaki stared at him, processed the words over and over again in his head, let the silence wash over him, let Matsukawa’s seriousness and the tired look on his face confirm that he wasn’t joking around.  
  
“Australia,” Hanamaki repeated slowly. “Eight months.”  
  
“You get it now?”  
  
“That’s…” Hanamaki gave a vague wave of his hand. “Wow.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“What did you tell your boss?”  
  
Matsukawa gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I asked him to give me some time to think about it… said I wanted to talk it over with you first. He told me they needed an answer by this Thursday at the latest.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
They lapsed into silence for a while. So many thoughts were running through Hanamaki’s mind: how many hours flight away they would be; how bored he would be without him; _eight months, those_ sadists; how best to deal with the rent and bills when only one of them was present; _Thursday_ ; how hot did Australian summers get?; _Australia, holy shit_ ; Matsukawa working so hard and finally getting to this point; _is this okay?_ ; Matsukawa looking more uncertain than he had ever seen him…  
  
“You should go,” said Hanamaki quietly. When Matsukawa finally looked up at him, he smiled. “I know you well enough to know when you want something. If you didn’t want this job offer, you would have turned it down already.”  
  
Matsukawa opened his mouth, and for a moment, looked ready to protest or retort. Instead, his shoulders sagged, and he said, “Eight months, though.”  
  
“It’ll be worth it. You’ve worked so hard, you should take this chance too.”  
  
“That’s what my boss said,” said Matsukawa with a sigh, tapping a finger against his glass of tea listlessly.  
  
“And he’s right, you know.”  
  
“It’s just… I’ve never been away for that long.”  
  
Never been away from friends and family for that long; never been away from this tiny apartment that he had learned to call home for that long; never been away from Hanamaki for that long.  
  
“Eight months will be over before we know it,” said Hanamaki. “It’ll be easy.” There was not quite as much conviction as he would have liked in his voice.  
  
“But what about stuff like rent?”  
  
“I’ve got a decent-paying job now; I can handle that on my own.”  
  
“That’s not fair on you–”  
  
“Excuse me?” Hanamaki’s lips quirked into a grin. “ _You’re_ using that line on me? Do you remember that time we had that fight because you paid for the rent and bills by yoursel–”  
  
“That’s not the same thing!” Matsukawa protested.  
  
“Yeah, it’s not,” said Hanamaki agreeably. “But if you go overseas, it’ll just be something that we’ll have to deal with.” When Matsukawa still looked unsure, Hanamaki leaned forward and said, “It’s not that I want you to leave… but you need to be honest with yourself and what you want. And sometimes a little time away from each other is good, or… something. We’ll use this time to… I don’t know, meet new friends? And I can use the time to catch up with old friends. I can... take up a new hobby? Volunteer to help out at Lil Tykes when Oikawa’s touring with the national team? We can… visit new places, or…” He was forcing it, now. Matsukawa reached over and laced their fingers together, holding Hanamaki’s hand a little tighter than he usually did.  
  
“I can stay,” Matsukawa murmured. Hanamaki just raised his eyebrows at him. Matsukawa rubbed his eye, shaking his head. “It’s… I want the promotion, but I don’t want it to be so fucking far away.”  
  
“So you want the easy way?" said Hanamaki quietly. "You want to stay in your comfort zone.”  
  
Matsukawa’s eyes flickered towards him; Hanamaki was smiling very slightly, knowingly. “Well, when you put it like _that_ …” said Matsukawa with a sigh.  
  
Hanamaki’s fingers tightened around his. “Well?”  
  
“I’m… yeah. Yeah, I’ll tell my boss tomorrow.” Matsukawa ran his thumb over the back of Hanamaki’s hand. “I wonder if they’ll let me fly in business class…”  
  
Hanamaki snickered. “Getting awfully cocky for someone who’s not even a manager yet, aren’t you?”  
  
“They’re throwing me into kangaroo-and-spider hell for eight months, don’t you think I should get a little something back?”  
  
They grinned at each other, laughed a little, leaned in and shared a slow kiss, pressed their foreheads together for a moment, tried to ignore how bittersweet this all felt.  
  
“Come on,” said Hanamaki after a while, standing up and pushing his chair back. “I have to make dinner now, so give me a hand. Wash the rice, and I’ll chop up the vegetables.” He flicked lightly at Matsukawa’s forehead. “Since you’re running off for eight months, I’m gonna make you help out with as many chores as I can before you escape.”  
  
“Huh, maybe this was your plan all along,” said Matsukawa, deadpan as he too stood up. “Plot with my boss to trick me into thinking I’m going overseas, just so you can make me do more chores to make up for that time.”  
  
“Oh, no, you found out my grand plan,” said Hanamaki, equally deadpan. “I guess that definitely means no business class for you, sucker.” This declaration was followed by an undignified yelp of protest as Matsukawa seized him in a headlock, and the two tussled playfully for a minute until Hanamaki squawked, “ _We have to make dinner!_ ” and Matsukawa ceased, still laughing, but not letting go of him.  
  
Somewhat automatically, they pulled each other into a hug as their laughter died down. When Hanamaki felt Matsukawa’s fingers draw gentle circles through his hair—the way he always liked—he buried his face against his neck, taking a long, deep breath as he tried to hold on to every little detail for as long as he could: the way Matsukawa felt as they hugged; his broad and familiar shoulders; that faint smell of the cologne that he no longer used but which still lingered in his clothes; how warm he was…  
  
Eight months without all of these. He hugged him a little tighter.  
  
“We’ll be fine,” Hanamaki murmured, to himself more than to Matsukawa. “It’ll be easy.”


	3. Dreamers (Things You Said When We Were On Top Of The World)

It had—surprise of surprises—been Hanamaki’s idea to take a refreshing jog up the mountain’s path one Sunday morning in February. He had burst into Matsukawa’s room (Matsukawa made a mental note to tell his parents and housekeepers to ban Hanamaki from their home before midday on weekends), and then rambled on about seizing the day and cherishing their youth and energy. This was followed by Matsukawa hitting him with his pillow, which thus deprived him of any weapons that wouldn’t concuss this incredibly rude and loud intruder, and _then_ Hanamaki had the audacity to grab hold of Matsukawa’s ankles and _literally_ began dragging him off his futon.  
  
An hour’s worth of empty sleepily-mumbled death threats later, they were jogging up the mountain path at a leisurely, even pace. It was a beautiful, crisp morning with very few people around, and Matsukawa felt that this really wasn’t a bad way to spend a Sunday morning, but like hell he would admit that to Hanamaki, after being accosted in the comfort and warmth of his own home.  
  
“Usually, it takes the equivalent of a freaking taiko performance to wake you up,” he said as they jogged. “What happened to you?”  
  
“I told you, didn’t I?” said Hanamaki cheerfully. “We’re seizing the day, cherishing our youth–”  
  
“I’m going to push you off this mountain.”  
  
“–pushing our dearest friends off mountains…”  
  
“Unbelievable.”  
  
They jogged for several more metres in silence. The uphill climb made the run slightly harder, but it wasn’t anything they were surprised by. Matsukawa could feel the muscles in his long legs powering through, and it was a good, welcome sort of challenge. He considered picking a weekend to wake Hanamaki up at the crack of dawn to go for another mountain jog, partially because it was good for them, but mostly as revenge.  
  
“I just noticed that you’ve been a bit… out of it lately.”  
  
Matsukawa glanced over at Hanamaki in surprise; the expression on Hanamaki’s face was clear of any joking. He glanced back at Matsukawa and raised his eyebrows.  
  
“Me?” said Matsukawa. “Out of it?”  
  
“Yeah, you seem a little tense. What’s bothering you?”  
  
They continued to jog in silence for a while; Matsukawa thinking, and Hanamaki waiting. He was right; Matsukawa did have something bothering him, but it was difficult to put it into words. Maybe it was because of their current exercise. Maybe he was just a little scared.  
  
Eventually, Hanamaki eased his pace to a brisk walk, and Matsukawa slowed down and fell into step beside him. They went on like this for a little longer, still thinking, still waiting…  
  
“We’re third years now,” said Matsukawa at last, slowly. “It’ll be our last chance to win the Inter-High, and maybe the Spring High too, and… I guess it still hasn’t really sunk in for me yet. It’s a little overwhelming, actually. And we’re going to be senpai to the second years _and_ the first years, and that’s so weird, you know? It only really hit me when Irihata-san told me that I would probably have to teach them middle-blocking techniques. What if I screw up and–”  
  
“ _Aww!_ ” Hanamaki interrupted, grinning at a startled Matsukawa. “You’re going to be baby-sitting all the tiny first years!” He ducked as Matsukawa swiped at his head.  
  
“Hell,” said Matsukawa, “if they’re playing volleyball, they probably won’t be tiny.”  
  
“You’re going to be baby-sitting all the giant first years!”  
  
“ _You’re not helping!_ ”  
  
But Matsukawa couldn’t fight back a smile as Hanamaki cracked up. It was honestly hard to be tense for too long around someone like him.  
  
He wouldn’t swap this doofus for anyone.  
  
“I can’t believe you’re actually worried about screwing up in front of the kouhai,” said Hanamaki, but his voice was affectionate. “You’re going to be _fine_ , dumbass. You’re one of the most patient out of all of us third years—oh, wow, we _are_ third years, that _does_ sound weird—and anyway, our current kouhai already look up to you, so it’s probably not going to be that much different with the new first years. So just… relax and go with the flow. And don’t forget about the rest of us—we’ll be here to help you look after them.”  
  
Matsukawa scoffed playfully. “Ah, how _could_ I forget?”  
  
Hanamaki gave an exaggerated sigh. “Your sarcasm _wounds_ me,” he said dramatically. “This is how you pay me back—me, your most supportive and dearest friend–”  
  
“I’m trying _very_ hard to forget right now.”  
  
“ _Wow, ouch_. And Irihata-san wants _you_ to mentor our kouhai? I take back everything I said—you’d turn them all into cold, unfeeling monsters.”  
  
They snickered for a moment as they lapsed into a warm silence again. Matsukawa ran Hanamaki’s words through his mind, and… yeah, maybe he really was just overthinking things…  
  
“You… really think I’ll be okay?” he asked uncertainly.  
  
Hanamaki bumped into him lightly. “I’ve known you for two _looong_ years, Matsukawa; I know what you’re like. Of course I think you’ll be okay, and like I said, we’ve got your back. You’re not doing all this by yourself, remember? We’re a team.”  
  
Matsukawa’s expression softened. “A team,” he echoed. “Yeah, of course.”  
  
“Hell yeah.” Hanamaki nodded to a spot up ahead and said, “Come over here a second,” as he began to veer off the path.  
  
“Where?”  
  
“Here!” Hanamaki seized his arm and unceremoniously hauled him towards a nearby lookout point that offered a grand view of beautiful sprawling landscape, with Matsukawa spluttering in protest, “ _Slow down! This is the second time this morning!_ ”  
  
“Okay,” said Hanamaki, letting him go once they reached the railing, “we are going to take this chance to yell out inspirational stuff and maybe wake up the entire city, okay? Something to get us pumped up.”  
  
“What are you talking about?”  
  
“Something like this.” Hanamaki took a deep breath and cupped his hands around his mouth.  
  
“Hanam–”  
  
“ _I’M GOING TO WIN WITH SEIJOU!_ ” Hanamaki bellowed, his voice echoing all around them.  
  
“ _Holy shit–_ ”  
  
“ _WE’RE GOING TO GO TO THE NATIONALS!_ ”  
  
Hanamaki fell back half a step and took another deep breath, face aglow with something like exhilaration. He turned to Matsukawa, grinning, and nudged him. “Come on, dumbass, say something!”  
  
“I’m not–”  
  
“Give it a try.” Hanamaki nudged him again. “I was joking about waking up the city. Come on, don’t be shy, say anything that’s on your mind!”  
  
Matsukawa chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. He felt much better after telling Hanamaki his thoughts, but there was still a small _something_ in his chest; something uncomfortable, like lingering uncertainty, hesitation… his doubts about his abilities as he and his friends hurtled into the future, and it probably wouldn’t immediately go away, he would have to work at it slowly and patiently but…  
  
He had his _team_ with him–  
  
Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he took a deep breath and gripped the railing tightly and leaned forward.  
  
“ _WE’RE GOING TO WIN THE INTER-HIGH!_ ” he shouted into the morning air.  
  
Hanamaki was beaming proudly. He cupped his hands around his mouth again. “ _WE’LL CRUSH ALL OUR OPPONENTS!_ ”  
  
“ _I’M GOING TO BE A GOOD SENPAI!”_  
  
“ _I’M GOING TO LEARN TO JUMP-SERVE!_ ”  
  
“ _WE’RE GOING TO KNOCK SHIRATORIZAWA DOWN!_ ”  
  
“ _WE’RE GOING TO BABY-SIT THE–_ ”  
  
Hanamaki was cut short when Matsukawa tackled him, and they collapsed into a heap on the ground, laughing and wrestling, carefree and enjoying the moment, like any lingering fears they had were now so insignificant–  
  
“Get off me! C’mon, we’ve still got this mountain to run!”  
  
“Race you to the next lookout point.”  
  
“ _Hey!_ You had a head-start, jackass!”  
  
–like they knew that whatever happened, they would be okay.


	4. Wide Awake (Things You Said At 1am)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a tie-in to _[Fools Like Us](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2858150)_.

**Matsukawa** : Hey are you there?  
**Matsukawa** : Just felt like bugging you if you’re awake  
**Matsukawa** : I saw a cat today and it reminded me of you lol  
**Matsukawa** : I pet it and I think it liked me  
**Matsukawa** : And I bought a cream puff from a bakery but the filling was custard???  
**Matsukawa** : It was confusing lmao  
**Matsukawa** : I can’t sleep  
**Matsukawa** : Zzzzzzz  
**Matsukawa** : Not really lol  
**Hanamaki** : [ _Incoming Call_ ]  
  
Out of surprise and reflex more than anything, Matsukawa rejected the call on his phone app, and then quickly regretted it. It would be nice to talk to him, but…  
  
A few seconds later, Hanamaki called again. Matsukawa rejected it a second time, heart heavy.  
  
**Matsukawa** : Don’t call me, dumbass!!!  
**Matsukawa** : I’m trying to sleep!!!  
**Hanamaki** : [ _Incoming Call_ ]  
  
He rejected the call again. Hanamaki called for the fourth time, and Matsukawa contemplated turning his phone off completely, but—  
  
“Hey,” came Hanamaki’s voice over the phone when Matsukawa finally caved and answered it, and—… oh, _god_. Matsukawa’s face crumpled and he pressed a hand over his mouth. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“ _Nothing_ ,” Matsukawa mumbled. “I just want to sleep.”  
  
“Issei—”  
  
“’m fine.” He kept his voice as soft as possible to keep Hanamaki from figuring out how close he was to cracking, but Hanamaki probably already knew.  
  
“What time is it over there?” Hanamaki asked. “One?”  
  
“Yeah,” Matsukawa replied.    
  
“Go put on some relaxing music or something. That’s helped you before, right?”  
  
“I’m fine.”  
  
“I’ll stay here until you fall asleep.”  
  
“I’m _fine_ ,” Matsukawa tried to snap, but words came out shaky.  
  
“I know,” said Hanamaki quietly.  
  
They lapsed into a somewhat heavy sort of silence for a little while, which spoke volumes. Matsukawa knew that Hanamaki knew something was amiss with him—usually by now, he would be rambling with a silly story about his work or Oikawa and Iwaizumi and making Matsukawa laugh. The fact that he wasn’t…  
  
“Say something,” Matsukawa murmured. He hated this silence.  
  
Hanamaki made a thoughtful humming noise. “You know, my supervisor asked me to work overtime because of something _he_ forgot about today? He kept trying to hint that it was somehow my fault, too! He’s so incompetent and stuck up his own ass, it’s really embarrassing. How do people like him get promoted? Do you reckon if I mess around like him, I’ll get promoted too?”  
  
“You could give it a try,” said Matsukawa, shifting a little into a more comfortable position on his bed. “But make sure you act extra charming if you do.”  
  
“Sure, I can do that easily.” Matsukawa snorted. “Hey, I heard that, Issei! I can be _hellishly_ charming. You don’t believe me? I’m telling you now, the little old lady at Momo’s Bakery gave me an extra cream puff yesterday because I was so damn char– stop _laughing_ , you jackass! You’re the _worst_ boyfriend!”  
  
They were both laughing now. Hanamaki had the best, most genuine laugh, and hearing it made Matsukawa feel simultaneously a little less alone and a little more homesick.  
  
“Speaking of cream puffs,” said Hanamaki, “they fill them with _custard_ in Australia?”  
  
“Yeah, I think that’s more common over here? I looked it up, they’re more like _profiteroles_ , instead of _cream puffs._ They’re pretty good, actually. I learned a new word too: _croquembouche_.”  
  
“Was that a sneeze?”  
  
“I’ll send it to you and you can look it up. You’re going to faint from happiness, trust me. Just… promise me you won’t try to make one. I’d like the kitchen intact by the time I get back.”  
  
Hanamaki made an indignant noise. “ _No_ support whatsoever! I’ve been making very tasty meals while you’re away, thank you very much.”  
  
“Maybe, but your _baking_ skills…”  
  
“Look, setting off the fire alarm was _that one time_ —”  
  
“It was hilarious and I’m never letting it go, you know that.”  
  
“Again: _Worst. Boyfriend. Ever._ And speaking of worst, what’s with you and cats?”  
  
“Wait, what do cats have to do with me being the worst boyf–”  
  
“ _Why do they like you so much?_ I tried to pet a stray cat the other day, and it _literally swatted my hand away_ and ran off! It didn’t even scratch me, it just _swatted at me_ and I feel even more insulted, like I’m not even worth extending claws for, what the _hell_ —”  
  
Matsukawa was laughing as he pictured it. He had seen enough of Hanamaki’s failed attempts to make friends with stray animals that it wasn’t hard.  
  
But, he also imagined himself with Hanamaki at that moment: watching the cat run off, keeling over with laughter as Hanamaki’s jaw falls open in shock, and him spluttering indignantly at Matsukawa with jokes about his damaged pride.  
  
Matsukawa quietened and the feeling of being homesick seemed to intensify, but—dammit—he just couldn’t bring himself to think that this phone call was a bad idea at all.  
  
“Hey,” said Hanamaki, “let me know if you see anymore cats, okay? Take selfies with them and send them to me.”  
  
“Sure, if you send me selfies of your own attempts.”  
  
“ _Attempts?_ Wow, _okay_ , challenge accepted, jackass!”  
  
“Let’s make it a week-long competition. Whoever gets the most successful selfies with cats, gets treated to lunch when I get back.”  
  
“I knew there was a good reason why I’m dating you,” said Hanamaki with a content sigh, and they shared another little laugh before falling into silence again. Given how quiet it was from Hanamaki’s end, he was probably in his room and tucked up in bed—just like Matsukawa was, only miles and miles apart. Ah, hell, it was so hard not to think about that distance…  
  
“You ready to try sleeping again?” Hanamaki murmured.  
  
“Yeah,” said Matsukawa, reluctantly.  
  
“Okay. Close your eyes and count sheep or something. Count cats. I’ll stay here until you fall asleep.”  
  
“You sap, you don’t need—”  
  
“ _Close your eyes_. Relax. Let my dulcet tones—”  
  
“What dulcet tones?”  
  
“My heavenly, melodious, dulcet tones,” said Hanamaki, “will soothe you to sleep, because I can’t be there to physically knock you out. Now, stop being so stubborn and close your eyes.”  
  
“Okay, okay, my eyes are closed… so goodnight, I guess?”  
  
“Yeah.” A pause. “I miss you too, dumbass.”  
  
“Don’t,” Matsukawa mumbled into his pillow. His fingers clenched a little around his phone and there was a tightness in his chest, but no matter what, he would always be secretly glad that Hanamaki knew him well enough to hear what he didn’t say aloud. “It’s too late at night for that and I’m getting sleepy.”  
  
Hanamaki huffed a soft laugh, and here, too, he knew exactly what Matsukawa meant. “Okay.”  
  
“Goodnight.”  
  
“Goodnight.”


	5. In My Element (Things You Said When You Were Crying)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [walks in 239857 months late with Starbucks] my bad

Work had been tough, and the approaching view of their apartment building as Matsukawa nears it, is the most welcome thing he has seen all day. Hanamaki should’ve arrived home already, so if he hasn’t started making dinner, maybe they could go out for a quick meal or something. It feels like it’s been a while since they’ve had a peaceful moment together.  
  
He gives a little sigh, glad to be home.   
  
“I’m back,” Matsukawa says when he opens the front door and begins pulling off his shoes.  
  
“Welcome back,” says Hanamaki from the kitchen. There’s the staccato sound of chopping, and his voice sounds a little odd.  
  
“Takahiro?”  
  
There is a loud sniffle, followed by choked up, “ _Shit_.”  
  
Matsukawa throws his bag aside and darts into their tiny kitchen. “Takahiro? What’s wro—why are you crying?” He closes the gap between them in a step, and when Hanamaki turns to look at him, Matsukawa cups his face in his hands with worry.  
  
Hanamaki looks confused. His eyes are red, his face is blotchy, and there are tears streaming down his cheeks. Then, he looks back down on the kitchen counter, and says, “Oh.”  
  
Matsukawa follows his gaze, and sees, on the chopping board in front of him, in pieces—  
  
“Onions,” says Hanamaki. “I’m chopping up onions, Issei. I’m making yakisoba for dinner for us, but these pieces of shit are making my eyes sting so much. We are _never_ buying this brand _ever again_ , what the _hell_ —”  
  
“Onions,” Matsukawa repeats.  
  
Hanamaki puts his knife down and nods to the other end of the countertop. “Pass me a tissue.”  
  
“ _Onions_.” Matsukawa is fighting back a smile—and failing very hard at it. “I thought—I thought you were honest-to-god _crying_.”  
  
“ _Issei_ , pass me a t—oh my god, stop _laughing, you shit_ —”  
  
Matsukawa leans against the kitchen counter for support as he cracks up.  
  
“ _It’s not funny, Issei!_ ”   
  
“ _I can’t believe_ —”   
  
“ _You_ —”  
  
“ _Crying_ —”  
  
“I swear to god, I’m breaking up with you!” But Hanamaki can’t fight back a grin, and Matsukawa can hear it in his voice.  
  
“I’m sorry, I can’t—” Matsukawa wheezes.  
  
“ _I can’t wipe my eyes, you jackass!_ ” But for all his yelling and sniffling and crying, Hanamaki also succumbs to laughter.  
  
They spend another full minute like this, cackling hysterically together. Hanamaki tries wiping his eyes on Matsukawa’s shoulder as Matsukawa reaches feebly for the box of tissues that they keep nearby on the countertop.   
  
“Shit,” he gasp. “ _Onions_. I can’t believe… here, hold still.” He pulls a tissue out, and, as gently as he can for someone still in the middle of doubling over, dabs at Hanamaki’s eyes and cheeks with it. “You had me so worried, I was bracing myself for bad news, but… onions—”  
  
“You say that word one more time, and I’ll… look, I don’t know what I’ll do, but it’ll be dramatic. Stop _laughing_.”  
  
Matsukawa is snickering all over again as he tilts his head up and presses a kiss to Hanamaki’s forehead. Though this wasn’t the kind of peaceful moment he’d had in mind, it still suits them perfectly, and he loves it. “Go wash your hands, I’ll take over from here. What else do you need?”  
  
Hanamaki sniffles and wrinkles his nose. “Just the onions. I can deal with the rest. Back soon.”  
  
And as he leaves to head to the bathroom, Matsukawa, still grinning wide, calls after him, “You complete me!”  
  
“ _Go cry a river, Issei!_ ”  
  



End file.
